


Gold Woven Into Existence

by cleopatraslibrary



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Most of their alter-egos show up as well, Other, So yeah, Taken place after Avengers 4 and EVERYONE IS FINE, The science bros seek out the magic bros for some help, Wong knows though, also, and he's tired of Stephen's shit, anyway, at least the characters mentioned, because i'm ironstrange trash, but pretty much it's helpful everyone, there's some unrequited feelings on stephen's end if you squint hard enough, y'know how it is sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 21:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15737769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleopatraslibrary/pseuds/cleopatraslibrary
Summary: Bruce needs some help. Peter offers a solution. Tony knows how to find the solution. Add Stephen Strange and Wong into the equation. Now, they're in business.





	Gold Woven Into Existence

**Author's Note:**

> okay okay okay so originally this was going to be apart of the sciencebrosweek on Tumblr. HOWEVER,,, it wasn't perfect, and so i struggled to find an ending that i was satisfied with. i wasn't really inspired by any of their prompts, but i wanted to Write, so this is what happened. overall, i actually really enjoyed writing this, and i hope you all enjoy reading it! if you actually look up this Tumblr, you'll see a majority of the prompts in this writing. also, like i said in the tags, if you squint hard enough, you can see ironstrange and pining!stephen. (and i mean really squint.) so just be warned. lastly, as always with my work, this is unbeta'd and edited only by me. anyways! enjoy and please leave me feedback, positive and negative! i'm really looking for some self-improvement.

“Time is irrelevant.”

 

“You can say that to Stark, Stephen, but I advise you do not purposefully anger Doctor Banner,” Wong said. “Especially when it was him who asked to meet with you.” His eyes never left his sizzling-gold runes, but his voice was serious and decidedly pointed towards Stephen.

 

“I suppose I shouldn’t try to push Doctor Banner’s buttons, but this meeting will be with Tony Stark, as well.” As if Wong didn’t already know that, Stephen added silently. He was grumbling, he knew, but in this particular moment, he didn’t care. 

 

“If he aggravates you so much, do not speak with him. Speak with Banner, as he is the one who requested you. However, remember this: you placed your faith in Stark once, and he succeeded in his quest. Just because the Time Stone was destroyed doesn’t mean his trials weren’t great -- or that time is irrelevant,” Wong continued. “Time shall remain to be uncontrollable, just as it always should have been.”

 

Stephen sighed. He knew this already, too. It didn’t subside the eternal guilt etched deeply into his soul, however. The Cloak was floating next to Wong, clearly showing which side it was on. A bundle of fabric reached out to touch Wong’s work, but he merely said, “No,” before the Cloak shrank away under his command. It gave a distraught shimmy before flying over to Stephen, latching securely around his neck.

 

A sudden  _ thunk _ ing down the hall grabbed their attention, and Wong looked up, conjuring a quick portal to stash away his work. The Cloak lifted Stephen off the ground as he twisted his wrists, summoning golden magic to his shaking fingertips. He heard Wong doing the same behind him, and it was silent.

 

_ Shall we contact the other Sanctums?  _ Shimmering letters drifted into Stephen’s vision, and he gave a slight head shake. He touched his third-eye chakra, and dragged the finger down to his lip, before swiping his hand to the right quickly.

 

He watched his thoughts materialize.  _ Not yet. We don't know the person’s intentions, or even if this person is a friend or foe. _

 

Until a chipper voice called out, “Hey, Doctor Strange! Wow, you guys got all serious for me? I’d be flattered if I weren’t just a  _ tiny bit  _ terrified!” from above them.

 

Spider-man dropped down in front of them, with his mask still in place. Stephen’s eyebrows raised, but he said nothing.

 

The Cloak flew from Stephen, as he and Wong relaxed their defensive positions. “Spider-man, we could have seriously hurt you.” Wong gave him a strange look, but he pointedly looked at his mask-clad face.

 

Spider-man paused his petting of the Cloak’s collar to reply, “Nah.” Then he happily went back to stroking the Cloak’s ego. It shook like an overexcited puppy because of the attention it was garnering. Stephen sighed.

 

“I’m about to go to the Compound. Would you like to . . .” He looked at Wong for help. He shrugged in return. Stephen sighed again. “ . . . join me?”

 

He had caught Spider-man’s full attention. His smile bled into his voice, as he replied, “Yeah! That’d be great. I was gonna go there soon, anyway, so this saves Happy some gas!”

 

Stephen blinked a little stupidly at Spider-man, before holding out his sling-ring, and conjuring the portal. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”

 

Spider-man ran right through the portal, a wide grin appearing as he pulled off his mask. Stephen hesitated, looking at Wong again.

 

“Even after all he has been through, he remains trusting.”

 

Stephen nodded in concurrence. He looked down at his shaking hands, but averted his eyes, instead gazing into the entryway of Stark’s lab.

 

Wong stepped a little closer and lowered his voice. “What troubles you so much about Stark? I see your guilt over the stone; I understand it, as I feel it, too! However, I do not blame you or Stark, or even myself for its destruction. It was the necessary path for us to travel down in order for the universe to stay safe.”

 

_ It is not just guilt! It is what I saw! It is what I felt! It is what I  _ empathize _ with in Stark! _

 

He said nothing, instead. He only gave a half-smirk, before saying, “Bye, Beyoncé. Don't wait up.” 

 

Stephen struggled to clench his fist as he walked into the portal.

  
  


He stood stoically in front of the glass door, clearly seeing Peter, Doctor Banner, and Stark inside. Stephen breathed in, holding it in as he closed his right fist. He heaved it back out as he knocked it against the glass.

 

Once.

 

Twice.

 

Three times.

 

The fourth never landed, as the door slid open, and a warm, Scottish voice said, “Welcome, Doctor Strange.” Stephen blinked for a moment, before internally shaking himself. It was most likely an Artificial Intelligence, he reasoned.

 

He walked through with confidence, his head tilted to the side and his faux-smirk still on his face. Stephen caught Doctor Banner’s eyes, and said, “I apologize for my tardiness. I lost track of time --” A snort sounded behind him, and Stephen gritted his teeth. “-- while working on something with Wong. And then, of course, there was an . . . intruder.”

 

Free from his suit, Peter lifted his hands innocently. “I’m sorry, Doctor Strange. I thought someone was following me. Which, y’know, they were.”

 

“Perhaps you should have told me while we were still at the Sanctum, so Wong and I might’ve been able to do something.” He breathed in slowly. He would have to find the window Peter had crawled through before there are any more unwanted visitors.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing he didn’t, Doc.” Stephen’s fingers spasmed as tension bled into his back. He looked at Stark from the corner of his eye, watching as he pulled something off of the Spider-man suit with a tiny set of tweezers. “He was bugged.”

 

Peter bounded away from Doctor Banner, running up to the work table. “Really, Mr. Stark?! Why do you--” Realization dawned on his face. “Oh.” He turned back to Stephen. “It’s a good thing you never called me by my real name. Did you know something was up? Or . . . are you psychic?! You did look into the future when we were on--”

 

Stephen didn’t hear Doctor Banner clear his throat, or see how Stark tried to quiet the over-enthusiastic teenager. 

 

Instead, he asked, “Doctor Banner, does your request demand we remain here?”

 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, no, no. It does not require us, um, to stay here.”

 

Stephen nodded once. “Very well.” He conjured a portal to the Sanctum. “Right this way, Doctor Banner.”

  
  


As soon as they were in the Sanctum, Doctor Banner said, “Bruce is fine, Doctor Strange.”

 

Stephen breathed in the sweet sage and felt his tense muscles loosen. “Then Stephen is fine, as well.”

 

He smiled good-naturedly and looked around. They were in the front hall. Bruce gestured upstairs and said, “Shall we?”

 

“We shall.”

  
  


They teleported into a study, rows of bookshelves lining the walls. Stephen and Bruce were both seated on two red, patent leather seats. “Would you like something to drink, Bruce? I’m sure we can provide anything you might want. Tea, perhaps?”

 

“No, no, I’m good. Thanks, though.” He looked around the room, his eyes squinted as he took in his gatherings. “I gotta say, though, Stephen,” Bruce continued, “next time you try to teleport us, give me a little warning. I never know when the, uh, other guy may be steering on the other side.”

 

“I’ll be sure to make note of that.”

 

“Right. Uh.” He scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, sorry, I should’ve . . . maybe prepared to speak, or something? I have a few questions about your-- your abilities. From what I’ve seen and from what I’ve heard, they’re -- they’re -- they’re incredible! Absolutely incredible!”

 

Stephen nodded his head. “Thank you.” He paused. “From what you’ve heard?”

 

Bruce chuckled, a little nervously. “Well, yeah. I got a full description of what you’ve done on Titan from Peter and . . . Tony. Well, actually, a probably more accurate description from Tones. How you went one-on-one with Thanos, how you gave him . . . well, y’know.” Stephen’s fingers spasmed again, and Bruce’s eyes flickered down to them. “If you don't mind, could you tell about some of the things you can do?”

 

“I can manipulate light particles in order to create barriers, weapons, or just a tool so I can be lazy. I have the ability to create portals, but only with a sling ring.” He lifted his hand and let the ring glisten in the sun. “Only with the ancient runes engraved on the ring allows me to actually manifest a portal.

 

“I’m able to leave my body as my spirit. I can freely travel throughout the different realms. I am able to conjure the Mirror Dimension--”

 

“I’m sorry, what’s the Mirror Dimension?” Bruce’s eyes flickered behind Stephen, but he said nothing further.

 

“It’s . . .” Stephen thought for a moment. “The Mirror Dimension is in our reality, but anything within it causes no harm to the physical realm. It wouldn’t be that far from a stretch to compare it to a lab, really. You can practice different forms of magic, without having to worry about there being any sort of physical consequences, lest you die from your experiments.” A thought came to mind, and Stephen looked at him knowingly. “What say you, Doctor?”

 

“Well, you see, Sherlock,” a voice came from behind them, causing Stephen to tense completely, “Brucie here has been having some issues getting the green guy up. Viagra just isn’t cut out for this job, y’know? We thought you might have some tricks up your sleeve, and not just some colorful, long ribbon.” There was a pause, and Stark said, “Peter? Do not repeat that. Ever.” Little noises kept coming from Peter, but he was repeatedly cut off. “Yeah, I see you opening your mouth?” Footsteps grew louder, from three distinctly different people. Damn it, Wong. “Nope. Shush. Thank you.

 

“Right!” Stark finally came into view and he looked down at Stephen. “Hey, there, Doc. Seems like Brucie over here got all of his information, right?” Stephen looked over at Bruce, who looked like he was ready to say something. “Ah, ah. Not yet, Banner.” Stark was looking mock-disapproval, and Stephen wanted to die. Only a little.

 

“Stark, I’m sure what business Doctor Banner has does not require you to hold his hand.”

 

“Exactly; he needs a babysitter.”

 

Stephen blinked and turned back to Bruce. “Explain.”

 

“He will be going --”

 

“Not you, Stark!” Tension generated down Stephen's hands, and he winced as they shook uncontrollably. “It is Doctor Banner’s problem and solution. I want to hear the plan from him! Not. You.”

 

The Cloak flew onto Stephen’s shoulders, settling soothingly. He breathed in deeply and looked back at Stark’s shell-shocked face. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew what he was doing if he apologized. But he did it anyway. “I’m sorry for yelling. I’m at the end of my patience, and I apologize for that.”

 

Stark considered Stephen, before nodding, and turning to Bruce. The magic that had been building in Stephen’s core loosened and spread throughout his body, leaving a slight tingling sensation in his arms. He breathed out carefully. “Well, Doctor Banner?”

  
  


“It’s a good idea.”

 

“It’s a great idea, actually. By Underoos, of all people.”

 

Stephen raised an eyebrow and looked at Peter. They all stood a ways away from Bruce, as he continued to punch himself, and tried to force the Hulk to come out of hiding. It was a specialty room in the Sanctum; the room was dark, save for the glowing tile covering every inch of the floor, and seemingly endless. Every direction would seem to continue forever, but Stephen knew the spell which enlarged the room, with every step taken. Add that to the magic of the Mirror Dimension, and it was virtually impossible for anything bad to happen, should the Hulk manifest.

 

Peter laughed nervously. “Aha, well, yeah. Y’know. You had the flying Cloak and all the cool teleportation magic, and awesome like . . . whip things! I thought you might be able to help Doctor Banner.”

 

“And Doc, you saw how Brucie was having issues getting the Hulk to surface in New York. You’ve seen his issue, a bit closely,” Stark added. Stephen sighed.

 

“That, I did.”

 

An abrupt scream came out of Bruce. His face transformed, and the Hulk screeched his unease and fear. Green veins rose along his neck as Bruce’s body suddenly grew and expanded. Another fearful scream came out of Hulk and Stephen conjured a shield, putting it around Stark and Peter. He ignored their yells as he walked up to Hulk.

 

His footsteps rang around the room, echoing in the widespread silence. The Hulk turned around swiftly, his eyes alight in orange hues, just like the fire which burns within his mind. Stephen only wore casual clothing; the Cloak was inside of the shield with the others, so he only had his magic to protect him.

 

Stephen slowed his pace and lifted a hand. He twirled his fingers, gently moving them as if caressing a lover. Gold knots appeared, and Hulk recoiled, his eyes wide and angry. 

 

“Hello, Hulk. Do you know who I am?”

 

Stephen knew he was intelligent. He could see it, in the way that the Hulk feared the magic flowing from his fingertips.

 

“Banner’s friend! You -- Banner’s friend!” he proclaimed, his voice ringing around the large, empty room. The Mirror Dimension only enhanced the echo, and the others began yelling again.

 

Stephen cocked his head to the side. “Perhaps I am.” Hulk punched the air in celebration of him being right, but then looked suspiciously at the sorcerer. “However, Hulk, I did help Dr. Banner  . . . manifest you.”

 

“No need for manifest! Hulk always Hulk.”

 

Stephen twirled his fingers again, and the gold magic shimmered, waiting to be used. He finally stopped, only a couple feet away from Hulk. “Perhaps you are. However, Dr. Banner would like to be able to communicate with you properly, so . . .” The magic ripped away from Stephen and held the Hulk down suddenly on the floor. He roared with rage, as he struggled fruitlessly against the golden whips. Stephen walked forward and grabbed a strand of Hulk’s hair. Hulk forcefully pulled his head away, and the hair laid still in Stephen’s shaking hands. “Thank you.”

 

Hulk snarled again. Stephen paid no mind to it, as his magic bled away from the Hulk and appeared back in front of his fingertips. He carefully began casting on the two strands of hair he had: one strand from Bruce and the other from Hulk. 

 

There was a roar of rage, but Stephen didn’t move. Instead, he turned towards the sound, and the approaching footsteps. He lifted his cupped hands which held the delicate magic and smiled to himself when it was suddenly silent in the chamber. He didn’t need to look up to know that Hulk had suddenly turned back into Doctor Banner.

 

He hurried to his side, paying no mind to his nakedness. “I need your wrist, Bruce. May I have permission to touch you?” He nodded. “Verbal, please.”

 

Bruce blinked a few times. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course, you have consent.” 

 

Stephen did one final pull of the golden weave, and the magic thinned like thread. He quickly grabbed Bruce’s wrist and wrapped it around securely. “Is it too tight?”

 

“No, no it’s fine. Is that all --”

 

The thread solidified into gold, looking like an intricate bracelet. On the underside of his wrist, was a tiny emerald. It was placed above a vein.

 

“That is all, Bruce.” Stephen smiled.

 

“And it will do as discussed?”

 

“Yes. It will make communication much easier between you two. The Hulk is incredibly intelligent and is a genius in his own right. From what I could tell, he created his own mental barriers to keep you two separate, so that your thoughts would not constantly intersect with each other. It would be useful from day-to-day inside your own mind, but it was also why the Hulk was able to stay in control for two years. 

 

“It should also be easier to call on him if needed, as well as to be more aware as he is the one roaming about. The emerald should be squeezed tightly to rescind the Hulk’s consciousness. Think of it as a lullaby. The magic doesn’t hurt him, only calms his -- and your -- anger.”

 

“ . . . Thank you, Stephen. Seriously. I- I- This . . . it’s . . .” Bruce trailed off, unable to continue. There was another shout from behind them, and Stephen rolled his eyes as he called the magic back to him. The was a crash behind them, and he felt the Cloak settling on his shoulders. It swatted at his face in a reprimanding manner but did nothing else.

 

“No need to thank me, Doctor. It was my pleasure.” They both watched as Peter and Stark got up off of the floor. “Perhaps we can rehash some of your terrors.” He looked at Bruce. “Not now, of course. But . . . it might be easier to move forward. Perhaps it will lighten the anger you must always bear, as well.”

 

“Heh.” Bruce continued to look at the others. His face was relaxed in the warm lighting. “Maybe. I’m not that kind of Doctor, but maybe you can, too.”

 

“Neither am I.” Stephen looked at Peter and then settled his gaze on Stark. It was forlorn, he knew. But he could afford to steal a few more seconds. “But maybe I will.”


End file.
